It's Not Over
Usual disclaimer - see Chapter 1 for the full details, but I own nothing, all the people own themselves, WWE owns the trademark names, I'm doing this to exercise my creativity and for the sheer pleasure of writing. Ask my therapist!
Chapter 10
Dacey was still deep in thought as she freshened up in her bathroom in the Calaway's guesthouse, brushing out her hair and rebraiding it. She knew why Joanie made her starstruck, but she was thinking about what Glenn had told her about the friendship she and Paul must share with Isabelle and Mark. It struck her that she was still a bit of an outsider, because she hadn't been with the company that long, but being able to form friendships with the other wrestlers and their families would bring her closer to the family that they all were.
It was one of the things she craved, if she were honest with herself. Her gypsy lifestyle, both as a child and an adult, had conditioned her not to form close friendships and attachments to the people and places where she found herself, because of the heartache that would cause when she inevitably moved on. It was a hard habit to break, but she had been drawn into the warmth and friendliness of the roster almost against her better judgement right from the start.
She was enjoying being "one of the gang", being able to share in-jokes, being warmly included as opposed to standing outside looking in as the new kid. And this, she reasoned with herself, was another part of that. Becoming friends with Isabelle and Maeve, for instance. She couldn't help but smile, thinking of Maeve.
Opening her case and taking out a fresh shirt, she sat down on the edge of the bed to take off her sneakers, replacing them with a pair of flat sandals. As she changed her shirt, she resolved to try to put aside her hero worship of Chyna for the evening, and concentrate instead on getting to know Joanie. Their conversation the evening before had been friendly, so that was a good start.
With that now settled in her mind, she heading back to the living area of the guesthouse to meet Glenn.
He had been sitting on the sofa, waiting for her, and he looked up at the sound of footsteps coming towards him. She had changed into a peasant style top, with a drawstring neckline. The silky fabric was gathered under her breasts with another drawstring, and then fell as a loose tunic to her hips, with long sleeves gathered at the wrists, and it was embroidered here and there with butterflies. He couldn't help but smile as he took her in, right down to the sandals with their tiny flower motifs.
She looked at him quizically. "Something wrong, Glenn?"
He shook his head, still smiling at her. "This is a new side of you, Dacey - you look so pretty tonight."
Dacey blushed a little, looking down at herself. "Should I change? I just felt like wearing something other than a t-shirt tonight."
Glenn stood and gathered her into a hug. "Absolutely not! You're perfectly fine the way you are - I've just never seen you wear this kind of clothing before. You should do it more often, it suits you."
Relaxing into his hug, Dacey smiled at him. "I'm not very girly as a rule, it's true. Perhaps it's because I've been speaking Gaelic with Maeve that's got me feeling all Celtic and fey."
He stroked a hand over her hair and bent to kiss her softly. "You don't have to be girly, or fey, to be beautiful, Dacey - you're always beautiful in my eyes. This is just something wonderful and new to me, and I'm enjoying every minute of it."
She blushed again, and he brushed his fingers over her cheek with a smile. "You'll be the prettiest girl at dinner, honey. Ready to face it?"
Dacey lifted her chin and nodded firmly. "I most certainly am, Glenn."
He nodded back, taking her hand and leading her from the guesthouse, admiring her spunk anew. She was a special woman, there was no doubt in his mind about that.
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Paul looked around as Glenn and Dacey approached the patio hand in hand, taking another mouthful of his beer before speaking quietly to Mark as they stood together near the grill. "Is something going on between them?"
Mark glanced over his shoulder, giving Glenn and Dacey a smile, and then turned back to Paul. "Yeah. Isabelle noticed something a few days ago, but perhaps I've been a bit blind, because I didn't know until this morning. Glenn says they're taking it slow - I think he knows the risks. After all, he was there when my first marriage imploded."
Paul nodded. The strike rate for relationships in the company was about 50/50, and he and Mark were among the lucky ones who had made it work, though Mark had struck out the first time. Others hadn't been so fortunate. There probably wasn't a foolproof way to make sure things went well, but being aware of the pitfalls certainly seemed to help. "You nervous about it?"
Mark shrugged. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't. We're on the verge of something that really has got unlimited potential, and I'd hate to have it screwed up because Glenn and Dacey made a hash of their personal lives. On the other hand, Glenn's one of the most professional guys I've met in this business, and Dacey seems pretty level headed for all that she's new to the company. That will help. Honestly though? I'd rather have the storyline fail than see either of them unhappy. They're good people, both of them."
Glancing over at Glenn and Dacey again, watching as Dacey picked Maeve up with a smile for the little girl, Paul nodded again. "Amen to that, brother."
Maeve was grinning at Dacey, touching the butterflies on her blouse with wide eyes. "You have butterflies, just like me!" She turned her head so that Dacey could see the butterflies on the little clips in her hair.
"So I do, aingeal. Butterflies are so pretty, aren't they? Like dancing flowers." Dacey smiled and Maeve nodded, and then squirmed to be set down, running off to play with the dogs who were romping on the lawn.
Paul grinned at Glenn, holding up a beer, and he laughed, kissing Dacey's cheek. "Sorry honey, but I think that's my cue."
She looked over at Paul and Mark at the grill and laughed, her eyes dancing. "Ah yes, the Texas rule!"
Isabelle smiled. "The Texas rule, Dacey?"
Dacey chuckled. "Aye - in Texas, at a barbeque, men congregate around the grill. Beer drinking is encouraged, but not mandatory."
Mark grinned at her. "You forgot about the constructive criticism of the cooking techniques, Dacey!"
She just winked. "Constructive? Please, they'll only tell you what you're doing wrong, Mark, you know that!"
Glenn grinned and headed over to take the proffered beer from Paul, raising it in salute to him and Mark as everyone laughed, and Dacey joined Joanie and Isabelle at the table. Joanie offered her a glass and Isabelle held up a pitcher of iced tea. Dacey nodded her thanks, and as Isabelle poured, Joanie smiled.
"How is it you know about a Texas barbeque rule, Dacey?"
Dacey sipped the ice tea and smiled. "My father's a Texan. I may have grown up on army bases, but daddy enforced the Texas rule at cookouts on every base we lived on."
Joanie laughed. "I think it's hard wired into most men at some genetic level, myself. Paul has the same rule for cookouts in Greenwich."
Isabella chuckled. "I remember those cookouts." She smiled at Dacey. "I was Joanie and Paul's neighbour for a few years in Greenwich, before I moved down here to marry Mark."
Nodding, Dacey sipped her iced tea again. She didn't want to admit that Glenn had already filled her in on the relationship between her hosts and their friends. Maeve's laughter came to them, and they looked over at her, Joanie smiling as she turned to Isabelle. "She's such a little charmer, Bella. Sure you don't want to swap her for a little boy? I've got one going cheap!"
Isabelle laughed. "You do not, Joanie! Ricky is just very much his father's son, and you wouldn't swap him for the world."
Joanie grinned. "True. But I'd give anything for a girly little girl - Maisie is such a tomboy, growing up with two brothers." She turned to Dacey. "Do you have brothers or sisters, Dacey?"
"Neither, I'm afraid, I'm an only child," she said, smiling at Joanie. "But Maisie might surprise you - I was quite a tomboy as I was growing up. Army bases can do that to a girl, I'm afraid. But my mother will tell you I went completely the other way once I hit puberty and discovered boys. There wasn't enough lipgloss and nail polish to make me happy for a time!"
Joanie nodded. "I remember that phase myself. There may be hope for my little tomboy yet!"
Isabelle laughed. "I'm going to remind you that you said that when you start complaining about Maisie wanting lipgloss and spending a fortune on new dresses!"
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Glenn couldn't help stealing glances over at Dacey as he stood with Mark and Paul at the grill. Paul nudged him in the ribs with a grin.
"You better not be checking out my wife, there, pal."
Laughing, Glenn took another mouthful of his beer and shook his head. "Not that she's not worth checking out, Paul, but no, I'm not."
Paul nodded, glancing over at the women himself. "Not that I blame you, man - Dacey does look very pretty tonight."
Mark agreed. "She's a surprise package, that one."
"How do you mean?" Glenn was ready to bristle at any implied criticism of Dacey.
Mark chuckled. "Cool your jets, Glenn. I meant that she's kind of unassuming at first glance - she's got this way of not drawing attention to herself, and you can almost think of her as just average looking, until you really notice her. Once you have though, you realise just how attractive she is. Not to mention how talented - you should see this woman do a cardio workout, Paul."
Paul raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
Glenn nodded. "I watched her - probably fifteen minutes of steady work, carrying dumbells the whole time, not counting the part of the workout I missed. And she wasn't even breathing hard when she finished."
Paul gave Dacey a speculative look. "Shawn told me she used to be a personal trainer - be interesting to get her to run some sessions for the locker room. We got some folks who could use a few good cardio workouts - it's embarrassing to have to slow down a match with a damned headlock to give a guy a chance to get his breath back after maybe five minutes."
Mark shook his head. "I already suggested it, believe me. She won't go for it - feels like she's still too new to the company. What did she call herself, Glenn?"
"Something along the lines of 'that new kid from OVW', I think," Glenn shook his own head.
"Well hell, no one thinks that of her any more!" Paul protested. "She's more than proved she's got what it takes to be in the big show, especially after that match with Jazz the other night!"
Glenn nodded. "Hey, we're with you, Paul, but so long as she thinks that way, she won't go for it." He looked over at Dacey again, his expression thoughtful. "It's not that she lacks confidence, or ability. I think she's just naturally pretty reserved, and isn't used to putting herself out there."
"And pushing her won't help," Mark added. "I think she'll get there under her own steam, and probably a lot sooner than she thinks. You can't hide talent like what she's got forever."
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As the smell of the steaks rose from the grill, Dacey joined Joanie and Isabelle in the kitchen, finishing up making the salads, Maeve helping out by carrying things out to the table, usually accompanied by Dacey, who made sure nothing was dropped or spilled.
The adults ate steak, while Maeve was happy with her hamburger, probably half of which she "shared" with the dogs, who hovered around her chair in expectation of this. Again, Dacey marvelled at Isabelle's catering skills - even with the amount four active wrestlers could and did eat, there was ample food, and the meal was heavily weighted towards protein and carbohydrates.
She even enjoyed a beer with her steak, which loosened her tongue a little in the company of Paul and Joanie, who still had her a little more reserved than she had been with Glenn and the Calaways alone. Maeve insisted on helping her to bring out the cobbler after dinner, carrying a tub of icecream to serve with it, giggling at how cold it was and going around to everyone to let them feel her icy little hands as she placed them on the adults' cheeks.
Dacey smiled as Paul scooped the little girl up and hugged her, settling her on his knee as she and Isabelle served out the dessert. Everyone waited while Maeve tasted the cobbler first, her little eyes widening at the taste of the warm peaches and topping.
Glenn smiled at her. "What do you think, Maeve? Did you and Dacey do a good job?"
Maeve grinned at him and nodded, eagerly taking another bite, and he laughed. "Good enough for me then!" He took a mouthful himself, and his eyes closed as he tasted it. Without opening them, he gave a little moan. "Oh god Dacey, I think I want to marry you!"
Dacey blushed bright red, and he opened his eyes and winked at her. "Or perhaps I just want to marry this peach cobbler, because it's fantastic!"
That reduced the adults to laughter, which Dacey joined, although Maeve looked seriously at Glenn and declared, "You should marry Dacey, Uncle Glenn - then she would be able to teach me more Gaelic. And how to cook more yummy things!"
The blush on Dacey's cheeks, which had been fading, intensified, and Glenn smiled at Maeve. "Well, we'll have to make sure she stays around for her cooking for certain, won't we?" He carefully avoided mentioning marriage, but Maeve seemed satisfied with that.
Dacey fought down the urge to flee the table and hoped the heat in her cheeks would fade quickly, and Isabelle smiled kindly at her. "This really is delicious, Dacey. You said it was your grandmother's recipe?"
Taking a deep breath, which she hoped no one noticed, Dacey nodded at Isabelle. "It is. Although peaches aren't usually what she uses - they're a little hard to grow in Ireland. So she most often uses apple and rhubarb for hers, while I go with whatever is in season. The peaches looked so good at the markets, though."
Glenn looked up and gave her a pleading look. "Apple and rhubarb too?"
She had to laugh in spite of herself, and Paul grinned, handing over an empty bowl. "How about another helping, Dacey? While Glenn's distracted with thoughts of apple and rhubarb cobbler?" He kissed Maeve's cheek. "I can't let him eat all of it, can I? Not when it's so good!"
Maeve giggled. Dacey scooped out another serve for him, and Isabelle laughed as two more bowls were held out as she did so. "I think it's safe to say the cobbler's a hit, Dacey."
Joanie nodded. "I think I might have to ask for the recipe, Dacey, the way Paul is putting it away!"
Now that the conversation was safely away from the subject of marriage, and on a safer topic like cooking, Dacey started to relax, and smiled at Joanie. "My Gran rarely had leftovers with her cobbler, it's true."
"She's Irish?" Joanie asked, spooning up more dessert herself.
"She is, and my mother as well. She met my dad when he was stationed in the UK," Dacey explained.
"So that's where you learned Gaelic?" Paul asked, Maeve leaning back against his chest.
The little girl answered him. "Dacey learned Gaelic when she was same age as me, Uncle Paul, from her grandma."
Dacey nodded. "Aye, that I did, aingeal."
Isabelle smiled at her daughter, whose eyes were slipping closed, even though she fought to keep them open. "I think it might be time for bed, Maeve."
Mark stood up, as Paul kissed Maeve's cheek gently and handed the little girl to her father. He smiled down at her, "Say goodnight, sugar-pie."
"Goodnight, ever'one," came the sleepy response.
As everyone said goodnight to her, Mark turned to the house, but Maeve protested. "Kiss Dacey, daddy?"
Mark smiled, and Dacey rose from her chair. coming over to his side and leaning in to kiss Maeve's cheek gently. "Oiche mhaith, a chailín mo chroí, codladh samh - goodnight, darling girl, sleep well."
Maeve smiled sleepily, and murmured, "Oiche mhaith, Dacey."
Isabelle's eyebrows rose, and when Mark had taken their daughter inside, and Dacey had resumed her seat, she had to ask. "Dacey, had you taught her that before?"
Dacey shook her head with a smile. "To say goodnight? No, I hadn't, but I remembered from when I was little, sometimes that's the time when things really stick with you. I'm sure there's a reason for it, probably something to do with the unconscious mind - all I know is that it's easier sometimes when you're sleepy."
Mark returned to the table, giving Dacey a smile. "You are a big hit with my sugar-pie, Dacey. Definitely gonna have to keep you around."
Glen very wisely said nothing as Isabelle stood and began gathering dishes, and then he gently took them out of her hands. "I can do that, Isabelle."
Dacey joined him in clearing the table, giving Isabelle a wink. "You said we were like family, remember?"
Paul grinned. "They've got you there, Bella - I've heard you use that one myself."
In the kitchen, Dacey began loading things into the dishwasher as Glenn dealt with what leftovers there were. He realised she was humming softly as she worked, and he smiled, remembering that she had done the same thing while they were making breakfast that morning.
"You always hum while you work?"
She looked up at him, surprised. "Do I?"
He nodded, still smiling. "Well, I guess twice may not exactly be always, but yes, so I've noticed."
She chuckled, closing the dishwasher. "I never realised I was doing it. But mam and Gran always hummed in the kitchen - maybe I'm genetically programmed to do it?"
Glenn brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek, smiling. "Maybe you are. It's nice, though - I like it."
The both looked around as the kitchen door opened, and Paul grinned at them as the others followed him inside. "Don't make me tell you two to get a room!"
Dacey blushed, and Joanie smacked Paul's arm with a playful smile. "Don't be such a tease, Paul."
It was the wrong thing to say, as Paul turned to his wife with a wicked grin. "That's not usually your line, Joanie."
It was Joanie's turn to blush, and Glenn wrapped his arms around Dacey with a smile as she laughed.
"Coffee, anyone?" Isabelle offered, smiling at the byplay between the others.
Dacey smiled. "I'd love one, Isabelle but . . . " She hesitated, unsure if she should mention anything about Isabelle's pregnancy.
Mark chuckled. "It's only a problem in the mornings, Dacey."
Paul and Joanie were obviously in the know, as Joanie nodded. "I'm the same way when I have morning sickness. It doesn't bother me at any other time, fortunately."
Isabelle smiled, gesturing towards the living room. "Then go and make yourself comfortable, and I'll put the coffee on."
Glenn shook his head with a grin. "Sorry Isabelle, we have possession of the kitchen, so we'll make the coffee while you go and make yourself comfortable with your guests."
Dacey chuckled. "Family, remember?"
Mark put his arm around Isabelle, steering her towards the living room despite her protests. "They've got you beat, Isabelle. Accept it." Looking over his shoulder, he grinned back at Glenn and Dacey. "I know how long it takes to put that coffee maker on, you two. Don't make me come looking for you!"
Dacey blushed again, even as she laughed, and Glenn shook his fist with a grin. "Get out of here, Calaway, or I'll be forced to pop you one!"
Paul's voice came from the living room. "Hey, I'd pay to see that!"
As everyone laughed, Dacey moved away from Glenn, her cheeks still crimson and he frowned, looking at her. When he spoke, his voice was low. "Does it bother you that much, Dacey, that they're teasing us?"
She looked at him, shaking her head with a smile, her voice pitched similarly low. "No, not really. I guess I'm just not used to it - being part of the in-jokes and such." She reached out to touch his face, almost whispering, "I like that they're including us, as 'us', actually."
Glenn smiled, leaning in to brush a soft kiss to her lips. "Me too."
Dacey sighed very softly, her eyes closing for a moment, and then she smiled at him. "So, where does Isabelle keep her coffee?"
They worked together companionably, setting the coffee maker up and turning it on, and then collecting cups and a tray, Glenn being pretty familiar with the contents of the kitchen. Once the coffee was ready, Dacey lifted the tray and carried it into the living room, while Glenn followed with the coffee pot. Isabelle looked up with a smile.
"Would you like me to pour, Dacey?"
She shook her head, setting the tray down on the coffee table and kneeling gracefully beside it, smiling up at Glenn as he set the coffee pot down on the tray. "I can do it, Isabelle."
Glenn took a seat, watching Dacey as she poured the coffee and handed around the cream and sugar with the cups. He had that sense again, as he had in the antique store earlier in the day, of seeing her in another time, long ago, when there was something more formal about serving coffee. He admired the grace of her movements, and of her demeanour, as she worked. He smiled when she looked over at him, nodding in response to her unspoken question, and was pleased when she rose to her feet, bringing both his cup and her own over. She sat beside him and handed him his cup before sitting back into the sofa close to him.
Dacey smiled when Glenn transferred his cup to his left hand and looped his right arm around her shoulders, and leaned her head against his shoulder, sipping her coffee.
The conversation flowed easily around happenings within the company and the storylines that everyone was involved in. Isabelle showed her shrewd understanding of the psychology of the characters they played, and Joanie had an uncanny knack for storyline, so much so that at one point Mark laughed and told her that if she kept coming up with such good ideas, she'd end up putting all of the staff writers out of business.
Dacey was fascinated by the discussion, as she was still learning the behind the scenes aspect of the company. She realised from the conversation that she had been very fortunate to have been so closely involved in the storyline setup they were currently working, but knew that was mostly because of who she was working it with.
As they delved further into the background of the storyline, she began to advance more ideas, encouraged by the others to expand on her thoughts. Isabelle in particular was keen to know what kind of precipitating event it was going to take to drive Ginger to the edge where she would either accept 'Taker and Kane or reject them outright.
Isabelle watched as first Dacey leaned forward, outlining a scenario, and then Glenn did, fleshing it out further, and finally Mark, Paul and Joanie began adding to it. They weighed options, tested theories, all of them excited and engaged, and Isabelle smiled to herself. Dacey suffered no lack of confidence, nor ability - that was very clear. She was very much an equal partner in this creative process.
Eventually, Mark summarised what they'd come up with, and for a long moment, there was silence. It was Paul who broke it, and his tone was infintely respectful when he spoke.
"That . . . pure gold, Mark. Pure. Gold. If they do it right, the way we've just worked it out, we'll not just break market share records, we'll smash them to kingdom come!"
Glenn grinned, his arm around Dacey's shoulders. "Oh, they'll do it right - we'll make sure of it."
Mark chuckled. "I think we'll break some new ground doing it, too."
Joanie gave Dacey a grin. "Kid, don't take this the wrong way, but if I could work out a way to toss you out of this storyline, I'd come out of retirement to work it!"
Dacey laughed and slipped easily into Ginger's persona, growling at Joanie. "The hell you will!"
Paul shook his head with a laugh, seeing the look on Glenn's face. "I don't think so, baby - but if this goes well, you might want to consider coming back to go up against the three of them once Ginger's joined the dark side. That's when the fun will really start!"
Mark gave an emphatic nod, and Glenn made a fist with one huge hand. Never mind that the other one was holding Dacey's shoulder in a very gentle manner. Dacey could only laugh, and Isabelle nodded.
"It will be quite the libretto! Worthy of Wagner, I'd say. With a heavy dose of Alister Crowley thrown in!"
Mark laughed, kissing Isabelle's cheek. "You're just saying that to butter me up, darlin'."
Dacey whispered to Glenn, "I have no idea what she's talking about!"
He laughed, kissing her temple. "Isabelle's expressing a belief that our storyline contains heavy supernatural elements, and very dark, possibly Satanic, overtones."
Dacey blushed. "Which is precisely what a collective known as Darkness should have, correct?"
Glenn hugged her, nodding. "Absolutely!"
Isabelle smiled. "I think it's wonderful - especially since it's not following the rather more common theme of some kind of love triangle. That's usually what they seem to come up with when they team a woman with male wrestlers."
Dacey nodded firmly. "When Jim Ross told me I would be teaming with Mark and Glenn, I was afraid he was going to try to sell me on some silly bride of evil thing. And if he had, I would have told him no thank you."
Glenn looked a little surprised. "Not that I would have blamed you, but you really would have turned it down?"
Mark looked at her thoughtfully, and she nodded again. "In a heartbeat. I know that being offered the chance to work with two of the leading men in the company was a hell of an opportunity, but I wouldn't have done it like that."
Joanie was the only one who smiled, understanding Dacey perfectly. "No Diva bullshit, right Dacey?"
She shot Joanie a grateful look, nodding. "Exactly. If I had taken a storyline like that, I'd be forever categorised as a female pawn. An adjunct to the storyline. The reason for the conflict, rather than an actual part of it. If I'd wanted to spend my career being sidelined, I'd never have been trying to get into the big show - I could have done it as part of one of the independent promotions."
All three men looked at Dacey with renewed respect. Paul was the one who voiced what they were thinking. "I've never heard it put quite like that before, Dacey, but your instincts are dead right. You never could have gotten a major push after something like that." He glanced at his wife with a smile. "I think we still have a way to go before women get the same opportunities as men in our business."
Joanie kissed him with a smile. "I've been telling you that for years, Paul."
Glenn gave Dacey another hug, smiling. "I'm glad you didn't have to make that stand, for one."
"Amen to that," Mark added.
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Soon afterwards, the party broke up. Paul and Joanie made their farewells, and Glenn and Dacey wished the Calaways goodnight as they headed for the guesthouse.
The moonlight lit the courtyard well enough for them to see their way to the darkened guesthouse, and Glenn flicked on a light as they entered. Dacey turned to smile at him.
"So, that wasn't too terrible, was it?" he asked.
She laughed. "I can't believe I was so anxious about it, to be honest. It was a lovely evening."
Glenn pulled her gently into a hug, smiling down into her eyes. "I agree. Especially since I got to come home with the prettiest girl there."
Dacey slid her arms up around his neck, smiling. "There you go again, flattering me."
He shook his head. "Nope, not at all. It's true. But I think it's time I was in bed, honey." His smile was gentle.
She nodded. "Me too." She made no move to step away from him though.
Glen stroked his hand over her hair and bent to kiss her softly. "How do you say goodnight again, aingeal?"
Dacey laughed softly, nuzzling her nose to his. "You remembered that one, didn't you, fear mo chroi? It's oíche mhaith."
"Then oíche mhaith Dacey," he smiled and she leaned up to kiss him.
"Aye, oíche mhaith, Glenn, a ghrá mo chroí."
She slipped out of his arms and moved towards the hallway. He called after her softly, and she turned, not even waiting for him to ask as she translated. "Goodnight Glenn, love of my heart."
The door of her bedroom closed softly before he moved to turn off the light and head for his own bedroom, his lips moving as he repeated the Gaelic words. They were just perfect, he thought, as he drifted off to sleep - love of his heart, that's what she was.